


Sing a Song of Me and You

by Nekomata58919



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, Eventual Sex, Fluff, M/M, Song fic, don't know what else to call it, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-11-12 02:11:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11152020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekomata58919/pseuds/Nekomata58919
Summary: After being shot by Ed, Oswald wakes up in an unfamiliar city with no memories of who he is. Convinced that he's the singer at a local bar, Oswald's world is thrown into confusion when Jim suddenly appears.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic based on a prompt on tumblr from thekeyholder. I meant to start posting this a while ago, but I forgot...I hope you all enjoy it though!
> 
> If you want to listen to the song Oswald sings in this, here you go: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=acb-js00c40

             Charles Adair had gone about his day as usual. He woke up, had breakfast, checked in at the bar, and then headed out for his afternoon walk by the river. Charles always got his best ideas for the business when he walked. The fresh air and relative quiet were good for that.

             So yes, everything had been going as usual, until now. Charles stood staring at the body on the edge of the river. “What the hell?” He hurried down the slight incline and approached. Charles hoped the man was only unconscious and not…well.

             After rolling him over and upon closer inspection, Charles was relieved to find a pulse. He was less relieved to see the front of him covered in blood. “How am I supposed to get the water out of him?” CPR would require him to push down on his chest, and that didn’t seem like the best idea. Charles frowned. He would just have to do it anyway; there was no way he would just leave the man to die.

             Charles grimaced and placed the heel of one hand on the man’s chest, then placed the other on top of that and shifted so his elbows were straight. Taking a breath, he began the compressions. It took a few times but then the man convulsed and spat water onto himself and the ground.

             “Okay, okay, good. Just breathe,” Charles said as the man gasped and wheezed. The man cried out and collapsed back into the dirt, clutching his stomach. Before Charles could figure out what to do, the man fainted again.

             As the weeks passed and Charles cared for the man, he was unable to keep from noticing two interesting things. The first thing being that he somehow managed to be both very odd looking and strangely beautiful. With porcelain skin, raven hair, and long lashes there was a definite appeal. But then there was his beaky nose and over all bird-like appearance. Somehow it all worked together, though.

             The second thing Charles had noticed was his voice. The man occasionally woke up but was obviously in a state of delirium. Charles would play music in his apartment, hoping that it would help in some way. When the man did wake, he would sometimes hum or even sing along with whatever was playing. What was truly amazing was that, even in the man’s half wakened state, Charles could tell he had a wonderful voice. He could only imagine what it would sound like if the man was fully awake.

             Charles flipped through paperwork, signing some and throwing out the rest. The business aspect of running a bar was his least favorite part. But one did what one had to.

             “Hhhuuugh….Wha…?”

             Charles’ pen clattered to the floor as he jumped up from the couch. That had come from the guest room. Was the man finally awake? Eagerly, Charles hurried down the hall and opened the door to the guest room.

             The man peered blearily around the room, struggling to sit up in his cocoon of blankets. He groaned and gave up, sinking into the pillows.

             “Oh good, you  _ are _ awake!” Charles grinned as he approached. The man flinched and looked up at him with wide, pale green eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you…?”

             “Who are you? Where am I?” asked the man, voice cracking slightly.

             Charles stopped by the foot of the bed. “I’m Charles Adair, and you’re in my apartment. I’d found you by the river – you were unconscious.”

             The man blinked and frowned. He looked around again before settling his gaze on Charles once more. “…I don’t know my name.”

             “What?”

             “I was going to introduce myself, but I don’t know my name. I don’t remember!” The man looked like he was about to start hyperventilating.

             Thinking on his feet, Charles stepped closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Relax! Calm down…I know you’re name. We know each other.”

             The man’s brows shot up. “You do?”

             Charles nodded.

             “Please, tell me then.”

             Charles’ eyes darted around the room as he thought up a suitable name. “Louis…Louis Hayes.”

             The man – Louis now – nodded slowly. “And…you said we know each other?”

             Charles smiled. “Yes. You work at my bar - you sing there.”

             Louis stares at him, wide-eyed. “I’m a singer?”

             “A very talented singer. Our best, actually.” Charles nodded again. Like always, his best ideas came from his walks by the river.

* * *

             Rain pattered against the windshield of Jim’s car as he cruised along the nearly empty road. The radio crackled and went quiet as he finally drove out of range of Gotham. Instead of changing the channel, though, he shut it off and sighed.

             Jim wasn’t the type to give up. Not usually, anyway. But this time? He didn’t know what else to do. Everything was just too fucked up; his Uncle and the Court of Owls, Bruce having disappeared completely from Gotham, Lee, and now Oswald was missing – likely dead if the neon green question mark on his picture at his mansion was anything to go by. What was he supposed to do about all that?

             As he drove through the next city over, he spotted a bar; the Fat Cat Lounge. The sign was red neon, with a cat silhouette wearing a top hat sitting behind the words. Jim slowed, then pulled into the parking lot. He needed a good drink. Or ten. Jim got out the car and headed inside.

             The smell of cigars and whisky with a tinge of perfume and cologne greeted Jim. The warm, low glow of the lights relaxed him, as did the quiet blues-y music coming from the stage at the back of the place. Subdued laughter echoed from the main area of the lounge. Jim could definitely unwind here.

             He approached the bar and caught the bartender’s attention. She sidled over, red lips curled into a smirk. “What can I help you with?” she purred.

             “Scotch, on the rocks,” Jim said, sitting on one of the stools. The tables and booths in the main part of the bar were all taken. “This place seems popular.”

             Seemingly unbothered by his disinterest, the bartender grinned. “I thought you were new. Yeah, it’s getting pretty popular. If you stick around you’ll see why,” she replied, getting his drink ready. “Here ya go, sugar.”

             Jim just barely kept from rolling his eyes. “Thanks,” he said, taking the scotch. Taking a swig, Jim was actually impressed. Too late he hoped that he could afford it and that this place wasn’t super expensive.

             As he drank, Jim watched other bartenders come and go from the bar, bringing drinks to the customers at the tables and booths. It really did seem like a far fancier place than he was used to. Jim decided his next drink would probably be a beer. He needed money for a motel after all.

             “Oh! Show’s about to begin,” the bartender from before said eagerly a few minutes later.

             A sax began to play a jazzy number, accompanied by a base, piano, horn, and guitar.

             “Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for our lovely Song Bird – Louis Hayes!” a male voice announced from somewhere Jim couldn’t see. Not that it really mattered, he was only here to drink, not watch a show. Jim drank his beer and stared down at the bar top.

“ _OoooOoooOooo…My fur got sold, oh Lord ain’t it cold. But I ain’t gonna holler, ‘cause I got a doller. And when I get low, oooo I get high.”_

             Jim sat up straight. That voice…it sounded sort of familiar, but different. But how could that be? Jim turned in his seat and his jaw dropped.

             Oswald stood on stage, dressed in a black pinstripe suit, his hair softly styled so it framed one side of his face. He was smiling cheekily as he bopped to the music. “ _ All the bad luck in this town has found me. Nobody knows how trouble goes round and round me...” _

             Jim shook his head. This couldn’t be right. Had he had too much to drink?

             “ _ I’m all alone with no-one to pet me, but the old rocking chair ain’t never gonna get me. _ ” Oswald winked at the audience. “’ _ Cause when I get low, oooo I get high. _ ” He dragged his hand up by his face as went to raise it above his head and gave a pop of his hips.

             What in the fresh hell was Jim witnessing? Oswald was alive! And singing, but alive! “Thank fuck,” Jim muttered. He’d been confused over the potential death of Oswald, but now that he knew Oswald was in fact perfectly fine…the amount of weight that lifted from his shoulders was shocking to say the least.

             “ _ …got his belly in a tangle, ‘cause I’m a slice of pie he just can’t handle. And when I get low, ooooo I get high!”  _ Oswald’s voice was honeyed and lilting. “ _ My pockets are empty and my chips are down. But I ain't gonna holler, no, I ain't gonna frown, ‘Cause when I get low, oooo I get high!” _

              Jim couldn’t stop staring. He couldn’t remember ever seeing this side of Oswald before. It was mesmerizing.

             “Amazing, right? I’m so jealous.” Jim barely even glanced at the pouting bartender. “Only been here a month and he’s already Charlie’s favorite.”

             “A month?” Jim asked.

             “Mhmm. Though I can’t be too mad. He brings in the customers, which means more money,” she said with a grin. “Charlie said to act like he’s always worked here. Guess to build friendships or something? Eh, I don’t mind. Louis is such a nice guy.”

             “ _ Woah there was a ruckus last night, I ended up in jail. But I ain't got to worry - my girls got my bail. ‘Cause when I get low, oooo I get high.” _ Oswald smirked. “ _ I'm all alone, with no-one to pet me; but the old rocking chair ain't never gonna get me. ‘Cause when I get low…” _ As Oswald took a breath, clearly readying for a long last few notes, his eyes fell on Jim.

             Everything seemed to freeze. Their eyes are locked. Jim could see Oswald’s mouth tremble slightly even from so far away. Then Oswald was turning and running off behind the curtain of the stage. A confused murmur started up and the band stopped playing. The man’s voice from before came back, trying to salvage things, but Jim wasn’t paying any attention.

             Jim barely remembered to pay for his drinks before he went looking for Oswald. Luckily, he managed to find him outside near the back of the building. “Oswald!”

             Oswald jumped and whirled around. “Me?”

             “Yes you,” Jim said with a shake of his head. “What are you doing here?”

             “I’m sorry…who are you?” Oswald asked, eyes flicking back and forth as though looking for a quick escape if necessary.

             Jim frowned. “Very funny, Oswald. It’s me, Jim.”

             Oswald took a step back. “I’m sorry, sir, but you must have me mistaken for someone else. My name is Louis.”

             “…No, I’m not mistaken. No-one else looks like you,” Jim replied. He grimaced internally. That probably sounded like an insult. “If you aren’t Oswald, then why did you run when you saw me?” And now he sounded like a lunatic. Just wonderful.

             Oswald blushed. “I don’t know…”

             “Louis!” The back door slammed open and a tall man with slicked back brown hair and a mustache that looked like something a Ring Master at a circus would wear came stomping out. “There you are. What happened in there?”

             Oswald’s eyes widened and he turned his back on Jim. “Charles! I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

             “You can’t just run off like that,” Charles snapped. He turned his dark gaze on Jim. “Who’re you? What are you doing back here?”

             Jim wasn’t sure what to do. Oswald was claiming to be someone else and this Charles guy was looking at him as though he might try to mug them. “Nothing. I’m going.”

             Oswald looked back at him over his shoulder. His brows were furrowed as he looked Jim up and down.

             Jim opened his mouth to say something more, then thought better of it.

             “Get going, then. Customers aren’t allowed back here,” Charles said, hands on his hips.

             “Right, my bad,” Jim muttered. With one last glance at Oswald, Jim turned and left. He would return another time, but right now he needed to think.

             Louis followed Charles back into the Fat Cat. How embarrassing! He’d never run off stage before and he felt so foolish for doing so. But that man…Jim? Something about him just – well he didn’t know. Louis looked up when they stopped, not having even realized they were heading for Charles’ office.

             Charles opened the door and gestured for Louis to go in first. “I’m going to ask again. What happened out there?” He shut the door behind himself.

             Louis shook his head. “I don’t know. But it won’t happen again!”

             Charles nodded and smiled. “I’m sure it won’t. But, did it have anything to do with that man outside?”

             “No. Why?” Louis replied.

             “Well, if he was harassing you…” Charles frowned. “I wouldn’t want anyone bothering you.”

             Louis smiled. “There’s no need to worry. He wasn’t doing anything. Neither has anyone else.”

             Charles slung an arm around Louis’ shoulder. “Good, good. You’re wellbeing is important to me, Louis.” He looked sidelong at him. “If something suspicious happens, tell me. You don’t seem to understand how desirable you can be to others.”

             “I’m hardly desirable, sir. I doubt anyone would harass me because of my voice,” Louis protested, blushing. Charles could be so nice, but then he would make comments like that. Louis wasn’t sure what to make of them. Obviously Charles was just looking out for him – but he didn’t need to be so worried about that.

             “So naïve, Louis,” Charles chuckled. “But that’s why it’s good you stay with me.”

             Louis slipped out from under Charles’ arm. “Yes, and I’m very grateful for that. I wish I could remember before, so that I wouldn’t have to keep being a burden to you.”

             “Nonsense! You’re hardly a burden.” Charles waved off his concerns. “Now, I think it’s time we head home. I’m sure after earlier you just need rest and to get ready for Friday.”

 

* * *

 

             “Yes I’m sure, Harvey.” Jim rubbed his temple with the hand not currently occupied by his cell phone as he glared at the wood paneling of his motel room. “Who else looks and sounds like Oswald?”

             “I know you aren’t in Gotham right now, but with what we’ve seen you never know,” Harvey replied.

             “It was him, Harvey. Can you just talk to Lee or Lucius and see if someone knows how to fix amnesia?” Jim groused. “Someday has to know something.”

             “Sure, fine. It’s not like we’re busy trying to hunt down Nygma or anything.”

             “Harvey, please.”

             “Alright, alright. I was just giving you a hard time, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

             Jim frowned at his phone as if Harvey could see it. “Thanks. Keep me updated.”

             “Will do, Jimbo.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First thing's first, I'd like to thank thekeyholder for being the beta for this story. Thank you!!
> 
> Second: Thanks to everyone who left comments/kudos! I really appreciate it. ^_^
> 
> Third: The song featured in this fic is from the musical Side Show. You can listen to it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9k_6EuDYKt4
> 
> Please enjoy!

              Jim paced in his room. He’d been planning on relaxing once he got out of Gotham, but now that he knew Oswald was alive and suffering from amnesia that plan was out the window. He wanted to do something about the problem now, but he couldn’t. 

Having done some snooping around the city, he’d learned Oswald wasn’t performing on Thursdays – actually Tuesday and Thursday were his days off – and Jim didn’t know where he was staying. Besides, Harvey hadn’t called back yet so it wasn’t like he had any idea of what to do.

              With an annoyed groan, Jim sat down at the foot of his bed. He couldn’t stop thinking about last night. When he’d thought Oswald was dead he’d felt almost empty. Jim had never imagined what life would be like if Oswald were gone. But when it had happened…he didn’t like it at all. It hadn’t been right.

And now Oswald was alive; but he might as well still be presumed dead because he had no idea who Jim was. That thought shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did. Oswald had brought him nothing but trouble, after all. But much like he’d realized after his encounter with the Red Queen, Jim knew Oswald was important to him in some weird way. 

Over and over again Oswald helped him, despite Jim never saying thanks. Oswald still saw him as a good person, even though he’d seen the worst side of him. Jim didn’t understand it, and he didn’t think he ever would. It made no sense, but it was nice. It was nice to know that there was someone who didn’t hate him, despite having every reason to.

              Jim frowned and ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t want to think too much about all that right now. He needed to do  _ something _ productive. 

              Harvey called a few hours later, much to Jim’s relief. “Hey, Harv.”

              “Got some information for ya. I don’t know how helpful it’ll actually but, it’s something I guess,” Harvey replied. 

              “Anything’s better than nothing. What did you find out?” Jim asked, as he got into his car. He’d decided to take a look around the city – again – and see what information he could get about the Fat Cat Lounge and Charles. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to learn anything useful. Just that, until recently, the Fat Cat hadn’t been very popular. It had done well, but it wasn’t noteworthy. Now, however, people talked about it – and about Oswald.

              “Well, the gist of it is that it’d probably be a good idea to surround him with familiar things? Places would probably be better but that won’t be possible,” Harvey explained. “Since we don’t know how he got the amnesia, there’s a chance he might just remember everything on his own eventually.”

              “Makes sense, I guess.” That’d be nice if Oswald’s memory returned on its own; but who knew when ‘eventually’ was? Jim wasn’t going to wait years for Oswald to maybe remember. “Alright thanks, Harvey. I’ll figure something out.”

              “I don’t see why you’re going to all this trouble,” Harvey remarked. “I mean, it’s Penguin.”

              “And? After Arkham I…It wouldn’t feel right to not at least try,” Jim insisted. He had nightmares about it – especially after he’d learned the sorts of things Strange had been doing to the patients there. 

              There was a beat of silence. “I get it. Good luck, Jim.”

* * *

 

              Jim arrived at the Fat Cat Lounge a little later than planned. The music started up just as he sat at the bar and the bartender from before smirked at him. 

              “I wasn’t sure if you’d show up again,” she remarked. “Beer?”

              “Yeah…thanks,” Jim muttered.

              “Of course.” 

              When she delivered his drink Jim turned to watch. The curtains parted as the piano played. A spotlight found center stage. Oswald was dressed in a simpler black suit, nothing too fancy Jim noticed. It was almost weird to not see him dressed in something more ostentatious. 

              “ _ Like a fish plucked from the ocean, tossed into a foreign stream, always knew that I was different, often fled into a dream _ ,” Oswald sang, his voice soft and sad. “ _ I ignored the raging current, right against the tide I swam. But I floated with the question: Who will love me as I am _ ?”

              Jim leaned his side against the bar, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. He’d been expecting something upbeat again.

              “ _ Like an odd exotic creature, on display inside a zoo. Hearing children asking questions, makes me ask some questions too. Could we bend the laws of nature? Could a lion love a lamb? Who could see beyond this surface? Who will love me as I am?” _

              Oswald wasn’t looking at the audience, but past them. Jim wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought he saw the hint of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

              “ _ Who will ever call to say I love you? Send me flowers or a telegram? Who could proudly stand beside me? Who will love me as I am?” _ Oswald’s voice wavered for a moment and he gripped the microphone stand in front of him. His eyes closed as he continued.

Jim was barely paying attention to his surroundings, but he noticed that everyone was completely silent. The whole bar seemed entranced. Not that he could blame them, Oswald was incredible. 

              “ _ Who would want to join this madness? Who would change my monogram? Who will be part of my circus? Who will love me as I am?” _ Oswald’s eyes opened landed on Jim, who straitened in his seat. Oswald’s hands fell to his sides as he belted the final lines. “ _ Who will ever call to say I love you? Send me flowers or a telegram? Who could proudly stand beside me? Who will love me as I am?” _

              The room erupted into applause. Even Jim was clapping. Oswald smiled beatifically and gave a little bow before exciting the stage. Jim frowned and mentally cursed. He couldn’t go around back again, so how was he supposed to talk to him?

              Jim finished his beer and was about to get up when he spotted Oswald limping over to the other end of the bar.

              “Louis, sweetie, another amazing job!” the bartender gushed, handing him a drink.

              “Thank you, Bree,” Oswald replied. “I was a bit nervous about doing that particular song.”

              “Pfft,  _ you _ nervous?” Bree snickered, shaking her head. “I can’t imagine why. Seriously!”

              Oswald laughed. He looked about to reply when he spotted Jim. “Oh…Hello again.”

              Jim’s mind blanked. What the hell was he supposed to say after their last encounter? “Hi.” Jim could have smacked himself.

              Oswald made his way over. “I’m sorry about before, with Charles,” he said with a shy smile. “He’s just a bit overprotective.”

              “Don’t be. It’s fine,” Jim replied, finally finding his voice. “I should be the one apologizing. I, uh…I thought you were someone else.”

               “That’s quite alright….Jim, was it?” Oswald sat beside him and set his drink on the bar top.

              Jim nodded. “Yeah, that’s right.” He didn’t know why he felt so strange. Oswald was still Oswald, despite not remembering that. But Jim knew it, so he shouldn’t feel so awkward. “That was really good. The song I mean.”

              Oswald blushed. “Thank you.”

              Jim wanted to say more, but words weren’t his strong suit. “So. How long have you worked here?” he asked. He needed to stay on track – his goal was to get Oswald to remember. 

              “I uh…” Oswald’s brows furrowed and he shifted in his seat. “I’m not exactly sure?”

              Jim raised an eyebrow. “How’s that?”

              “It’s a little embarrassing…” Oswald gave a tiny half-smile.

              “I doubt that,” Jim replied. He needed to know what Oswald knew or remembered. If anything.

Oswald shrugged. “I have amnesia. So I don’t exactly remember working here before. But Charles said I’ve worked here for a few years. I just wish I could remember.”

              So Oswald knew he had amnesia. That made Jim’s job a little easier at least. Hopefully that would work in his favor. “That sounds like it’s difficult to deal with.”

              “It hasn’t been too bad, what with Charles helping me. I’m lucky that he lets me stay with him, considering I don’t even remember where I live. Or lived,” Oswald said with a small laugh.

              “You’re staying with your boss?” Jim frowned. That couldn’t be good – what if Charles took advantage of Oswald somehow? He was already lying to him to get Oswald to work here. Jim grit his teeth to keep from telling Oswald off for being so stupid.

              “Yes. He’s been very patient with me,” Oswald replied.

“Right…Oh, I almost forgot.” Jim pulled a small box from his jacket pocket and held it out to Oswald. “I had wanted to give this to you, to apologize properly.”

              Oswald stared at the box wide-eyed for a moment before shaking his head. “That’s not necessary,” he replied with a little laugh.

              “I insist,” Jim said, gesturing with the box. 

              Oswald gave a little huff and took it from him. Opening it revealed two umbrella shaped cufflinks. “These…these are very nice! I hope these didn’t cost you too much,” he sighed, looking up at Jim with a perturbed expression.

              “No, it wasn’t a problem, O-Louis,” Jim replied with a strained smile. Technically they were Oswald’s anyway. Harvey had gone through the manor – once he was sure it had been cleared out – and brought Jim several of Oswald’s items. Jim figured bringing them to Oswald would help jog his memory.

              Oswald removed the cufflinks he was currently wearing and replaced them with the umbrella ones. He admired them for a moment before grinning at Jim. “Thank you very much, Jim.”

Jim swallowed, then smiled back. “You’re welcome.” 

              “So…are you planning to come here again?” Oswald asked, looking down and then back up through his lashes. “I’m sure we can work out a discount here, if you become a regular?”

              Jim nodded. “Yeah, uh, sure. I was planning on it,” he said. Then added, “But the discount isn’t necessary. The prices aren’t too bad.”

              Oswald waved his hand dismissively. “Nonsense. I’m sure I can work something out with Bree.” He stood and before Jim could protest again, went to go find the bartender. 

              Jim sighed and leaned against the bar. Well, it seemed to be going better than he thought it would. Still, he was worried. Jim hadn’t exactly been nice to Oswald before, what would happen if he remembered? When he remembered, Jim corrected himself. 

              “Bree said she’ll give you a discount. She’s really so nice,” Oswald chirped, returning to sit beside Jim again. 

              Jim responded with a half-smile. “Yeah. Thanks, Louis.” 

              “What are friends for?” Oswald giggled. He blinked, and his face flushed bright red. Panicked he quickly continued, “Oh! I’m sorry, that was very forward of me. I don’t know where that came from!”

              “No! No, it’s fine,” Jim assured, placing a hand on Oswald’s arm. “We can be…friends. If you want.”

              Oswald’s eyes widened and he smiled brightly. “I’d like that, Jim.” 

“Yeah?” Jim felt a weird sense of relief. “Okay, then.”

Oswald clasped Jim’s hand in both of his own. “Then I look forward to seeing you again soon, my friend.”

“Hey, Louis, sorry to interrupt,” Bree said, eyeing the both of them with a raised brow. “But Charles is looking for you.”

“I see.” Oswald nodded and let go of Jim’s hands. “I’d best hurry along then. Good night, Jim.”

              “…’Night,” Jim replied awkwardly as he watched Oswald leave.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I took this long to post chapter 3! I had it done, I just....forgot I hadn't posted it. Oops. Please forgive me! D:
> 
> The two songs featured in this chapter are
> 
> Why Don't You Do Right: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JaeAlG-G968
> 
> L-O-V-E: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JErVP6xLZwg

 

             “ _You had plenty money in 1922 You let other women make a fool of you. Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?_ ” Oswald crooned into the mic. His eyes were hooded as he gazed out at the crowd with a barely there smirk. “ _Get out of here. Get me some money too._ ”

             Jim wasn’t sure if he regretted getting a seat in the main section of the lounge now or not. The low red light played off Oswald’s delicate features and Jim couldn’t take his eyes off him. After a week of attending the shows, he really couldn’t say he wasn’t enjoying them.

             Oswald’s gaze flicked over to Jim. “ _You’re sittin’ down and wonderin’ what it’s all about. If you ain’t got no money they will put you out. Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?_ ” The way Oswald’s hands slid along the mike stand should have been illegal. “ _Get out of here. Get me some money too._ ”

             “ _Now if you had prepared twenty years ago._ ” Oswald practically arched his back as the piano swept up the scale. “ _You wouldn’t be a wanderin’ now from door to door. Why don’t you do right, like some other men do? Get out of here. Get me some money too._ ” He bit his lower lip and looked at the audience from beneath his lashes. “ _Get out of here. Get me some money too._ ”

             Yeah, Jim regretted sitting so close. He was also pretty sure the bar had turned the heat on. Jim tugged awkwardly at the collar of his shirt.

             “ _Why don’t you do right?_ ” Oswald let his stare linger on Jim this time. “ _Like some other men...do?_ ”

             The place erupted into applause as Oswald gave a little bow and exited the stage. When he got around to joining Jim at his table, Jim found himself straightening in his seat. “That was, uh, that was really good, Louis.”

             Oswald smiled sweetly at him. “Thank you, Jim.”

             “Remember how you told me you like birds?” Jim rummaged through his pockets.

             “Oh, Jim, another present? You know you don’t need to,” Oswald protested, reaching across the table. “I appreciate it, but really.”

             Jim held out a small penguin statuette - another item found in Oswald’s manor. “I saw this and thought you’d like it.” He gave a half smile.

             Oswald’s face lit up as he accepted the gift. “You know, Jim. Mother always told me stories of how men used to woo her with gifts. Are you up to something?” he teased, lifting his gaze from the statuette.

             Whoa, wait... “Your mother?” Jim asked, hope sparking in his chest.

             “Yes my...oh!” Oswald drew back, eyes wide. “I wasn’t even...I remember my mother.”

             Jim smiled. “That’s great, Louis. Do you remember anything more? About her or anything else?” He couldn’t help his questions. Jim had noticed bits and pieces of Oswald’s memories returning here and there, but this was the biggest piece yet.

             Oswald’s lips twisted into a thoughtful frown. After a few moments he shook his head. “No. Unfortunately, I think that’s it.” He peered up at Jim and smirked. “But you didn’t deny what I said.”

             “What you said?” Jim asked. Then he recalled. He rubbed the back of his neck .“Oh...uh. It hadn’t been my intention.”

             “It’s fine, Jim. I didn’t mean it,” Oswald said, though his eyes dropped to the tabletop and his shoulders slumped.

             Well, crap. Jim had disappointed Oswald - again. But Oswald didn’t remember his past fuck-ups. He didn’t remember that Jim didn’t deserve his admiration. “But that doesn’t mean my intentions changed.” Maybe he could fix things.

             Oswald’s eyes widened, and even in the low light Jim could see a rosy hue spreading over his cheeks. “Excuse me?”

             Jim took a fortifying breath and asked, “Do you want to get dinner? Tomorrow?”

             “Yes!” Oswald leaned forward, smile eager. He grimaced and sat back. “I mean, yes. I’d like that.”

             “Good, good. I can pick you up at seven?” Jim replied, smiling a little.

             “We can meet here actually. But yes, seven is good,” Oswald agreed.

 

* * *

   
  
             “L is for the way you look at me.”

             Jim was glad he had decided to stop caring about his wallet for the night, because the way Oswald grinned at him since the moment they’d stepped into the fancy Italian restaurant was worth it. His pretty green eyes sparkled as brightly as the chandeliers as they sat across from each other and enjoyed the expensive wine brought to them.

              _“O is for the only one I see.”_

             “Jim, the waiter is asking for your order,” Oswald pointed out with a stifled giggle.

             Jim blinked and looked away from Oswald long enough to order. When the waiter left, he looked back at Oswald, who was blushing nicely. “You, uh, look really good tonight, Louis.” No matter how many times he said the name, it just didn’t feel right. Jim had to actively stop himself from grimacing lest he insult Oswald by accident.

             “Thank you,” Oswald replied, smiling sweetly. “So do you.”

              _“V is very, very extraordinary.”_

              Even when the food arrived, Jim couldn’t help but stare at Oswald occasionally. Or more than occasionally.

             “I feel like you’re trying to spoil me, Jim. All those presents, this restaurant, and your undivided attention?” Oswald murmured.

             Jim shrugged. “Maybe I am.”

             Oswald gaped at him for a second. He quickly closed his mouth and ducked his head, grinning despite his embarrassment. “Well, I can’t complain. If you aren’t careful, I could get used to this.”

              _“E is even more than anyone that you adore. And love is all that I can give to you.”_

             Jim and Oswald left the restaurant, neither able to keep from smiling. Oswald shivered slightly as they walked down the street, his arm looped through Jim’s.

             “Here,” Jim said, removing his own coat and draping it over Oswald’s shoulders.

             “Oh, thank you, Jim. I’ve never been a fan of the cold.” Oswald tugged Jim's coat closer and leaned against him. “So...where are we going?”

             Jim shrugged. “Wherever. Unless you’d rather go back to Charles’ place already?” He couldn’t help but frown at the thought of the other man. Charles was up to no good, obviously, he just wished he could get Oswald to see that.

             “No, this is fine,” Oswald assured, his grip on Jim’s arm tightening. Jim chuckled.

              _”Love is more than just a game for two. Two in love can make it, take my heart and please don’t break it.”_

             When Oswald finally called for a cab, it was very late. Jim had enjoyed just walking with him, even if they didn’t talk much. Normally, he felt awkward during silences like that, but it had been nice.

             “I want to thank you again, Jim. I had a good time,” Oswald said, smiling up at him. “We could do it again sometime?”

             “Sure,” Jim agreed. He let a hand rest on Oswald’s waist as he moved closer. “I’d like that.” Jim could feel Oswald’s breath against his lips. He froze. He couldn’t kiss Oswald. Not like this. Not when he didn’t really remember Jim.

             “Jim?”

             Sighing, Jim pulled back. “Your cab is here.”

             Oswald blinked owlishly before turning to see the cab pulling up to the curb. “Oh.”

             Jim wouldn’t take advantage of Oswald. Even if he did, surprisingly, really want to kiss him. When Oswald got his memories back, he probably wouldn’t appreciate it.

             “I suppose this is good night, then,” Oswald remarked.

             “Yeah. Good night, Louis.”

             Oswald waved from the back seat of the cab as it drove away.

              _“Love was made for me and you.”_

 

* * *

 

             “Just where have you been?”

             Louis flinched as Charles stood from the couch, arms crossed. “I was out.”

             “I gathered that, Louis. What were you doing?” Charles snapped.

             “Why does it matter?” Louis retorted. He didn’t understand why Charles was angry. He was an adult and could do as he pleased. But that didn’t exactly stop Louis feeling like a guilty child with the way Charles was glaring at him.

             Charles stormed over and snatched the coat from Louis’ shoulders. “You were out with that Gordon guy, weren’t you?”

             Despite cowering back against the wall, Louis kept his tone defiant. “I was. And?” He lifted his chin and scowled down his nose at Charles. “I’m perfectly within my right to date anyone I choose. You aren’t my father and _you don’t own me_.”

             Louis stiffened when Charles placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Louis. I overstepped. But I only got angry because I worry about you.”

             “Why were you worried? I was only out with Jim,” Louis said. He inched his way around Charles and made for the hall.

             Charles grabbed his arm. “And that’s what worried me. Louis, you don’t know that man. What if he wanted to hurt you? What if he’s a stalker? He only shows up at the bar on days when you’re there.”

             Louis’s brows shot up. “A stalker? Jim? That’s silly.”

             “Is it?” Charles asked.

             “Yes, it is,” Louis huffed. “Jim’s been incredibly nice to me. He wouldn’t hurt me and he’s not a stalker. I trust him.” And it was true. Despite knowing Jim a short time, Louis felt he could trust him with his life.

             “You’re being stupid, Louis. You can’t trust him,” Charles growled. Louis jumped when a hand pressed to his cheek. Calmer, Charles continued, “You’re so trusting. People are just waiting to take advantage of that quality in you. Which is why I’m looking out for you. Especially now that you don’t have your memories.”

             Louis looked away. Of course, Charles was only trying to protect him. He was too nice and honestly Louis didn’t know why Charles put up with an employee with no memory. “I appreciate your concern, Charles.” He looked back up at him. “But please, I trust Jim. If you got to know him, you’d understand.”

             Charles snorted and stepped away. “No, I think I’ll continue to keep any eye on him from a distance. For now.”

             Louis sighed. “Can I have the coat back, please? It’s Jim’s. I forgot to give it back to him.”

             “Tomorrow,” Charles replied blithely. He took the coat with him when he headed down the hall to his room.

             Biting on his thumbnail, Louis limped to the window. He hoped Charles wouldn’t scare Jim off. While Charles and Bree were both very nice, no-one else talked to him. They were all happy enough to listen to him sing, but that was all - except Jim. Louis smiled.

             Jim was handsome and kind and didn’t seem to mind Louis’...unusual appearance. Louis knew he wasn’t much to look at, but Jim looked at him as though he were. He didn’t stare at his nose or his limp. Jim had even complimented him tonight!

             So, maybe it wasn’t wise to trust someone he’d only just met, but he couldn’t help himself. Louis knew he’d trust Jim no matter what.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to thank thekeyholder again for being the beta for this! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!
> 
> And, for those who want to listen to the song used in this chapter (I Belong To You by Caro Emerald), here ya go: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pYNUg5j7tr0

         “ _ Under the stars there shines one light that always glistens, always listens, to the whispers of the night. When skies are black, full of despair, I ask the sun to tell the moon that the two of us are there. _ ” Louis pulled on his suit jacket and adjusted his tie. As he limped out of the guest room and to the bathroom, he hummed quietly. He flicked on the lights and sighed. Louis hoped that tonight Jim would kiss him. It had been a couple of days, so surely it wasn’t unreasonable to expect.

         “ _... And in your eyes, true love decides forever is word that cries. That I belong to you_ ,” Louis sang to himself as he applied his eyeliner. “ _That endless nights so far away are gone, and you could never love another._ _And I love you too. I see it up above and now I feel the truth._ ”

         Louis stepped back and looked himself over. He had been going over a playlist of song and heard this — it described his feelings perfectly. Louis wondered if Jim suspected that’d he been choosing songs for him. Well, only recently of course. “ _...But now this river that we’re swimming through is promises we keep. The sun comes up, there is no heat, ‘cause what we’re feeling is revealing, all we dared. _ ”

         Finally satisfied with his appearance, Louis left the bathroom.

         “Louis.”

         Louis froze. Right, Charles. Louis plastered a smile on. “Is something wrong? Did I take too long again?”

         Charles shook his head. “No, you’re on time. But there’s something I need to tell you.” He held out a newspaper. “Your boyfriend isn’t all he’s cracked up to be.”

         Louis sighed. “This again? Charles, I appreciate your concern, but  _ really. _ ”

         “Did you know Jim Gordon was a police officer?” Charles asked stiffly.

         “Yes, actually. He told me he worked in a city called Gotham and was here on a short vacation,” Louis replied. He couldn’t help but smirk a little. Of course Jim had told him about himself, and maybe now Charles would stop complaining. Honestly, Louis could take care of himself. He was a grown man, despite what Charles seemed to believe.

         Louis’ smirk waned, however, at Charles’ raised eyebrow and answering smirk. “Did he also mention that he’s a murderer?”

         “What?”

         Charles pushed the newspaper into Louis’ hands. “It’s only natural you wouldn’t remember hearing about how crime ridden Gotham is. Or how corrupt the cops there are. But I looked into Mr. Gordon’s history there—it wasn’t difficult—and found a few interesting things.”

         Louis looked down at the rolled up newspaper. He wanted to look; but, at the same time he didn’t. It would mean he didn’t trust Jim if he looked. Charles was just being silly. Louis gripped the paper tight and glared at the floor. “I trust Jim.”

         “Do you?” Charles inquired, his tone mocking.

         “Yes, I do,” Louis snapped, opening the paper. Whether Jim was a murderer or not, Louis trusted him. He’d had ample opportunity to hurt him and hadn’t. Louis looked down.

         A picture of Jim being led away in handcuffs greeted him. Louis inhaled sharply. According to the article, Jim had murdered a fellow cop. Not only that, but he’d been suspected of being an accomplice in the murder of Mayor Theo Galavan. Louis felt a spike of anger surge through him at the name. Why, though, he didn’t know.

         “You see? This proves you can’t trust him,” Charles said, moving closer. “I have your best interests in mind, Louis. I’m the only one you can trust, because I’ll always be here for you.”

         Louis’ head snapped up. Charles was smiling down at him. Or was it Charles? It was a bespectacled man dressed in a green suit. No, it was Charles and he was reaching out to Louis. “Don’t touch me!” Louis shouted, backing up.

         “Louis?” Charles asked, brow furrowed in confusion. He tried to touch his arm again.

         “No!” Louis smacked his hand away and bolted from the apartment.

 

* * *

 

         Jim paced in his motel room. Oswald didn’t seem to be remembering much and he couldn’t stay away from Gotham for too much longer. He needed to get Oswald to remember, but he didn’t want to damage him either. Jim raked his fingers through his hair. This was all his fault. If he hadn’t abandoned Oswald to Arkham, then this would never have happened. So it was up to Jim to fix it, whatever way he could.

         Having made his decision, Jim went to the door. He’d try to convince Oswald to come back to Gotham with him, whether he remembered or not. The door swung open, leaving Jim to stare awkwardly down at Oswald who had his hand poised to knock.

         “Jim! I’m so glad you’re here,” Oswald said, voice cracking. Drenched from the pouring rain and shivering, he looked rather pitiful.

         Jim frowned. “Louis, is something wrong?”

         “I–I don’t know. Sort of? We need to talk,” Oswald replied. He wasn’t making eye contact, instead choosing to look dolefully down at his own shoes.

         "...Okay. Come inside,” Jim replied, stepping aside to let Oswald in. He shut the door and went to grab one of the less dubious looking towels from the bathroom and offered it. Oswald took it with a half-smile, and dried off as best he could. Jim stood with his hands on his hips. “What is it you wanted to talk about?”

         Oswald looked over at the lumpy bed. “May I sit first?”

         “Yeah, of course.” Jim wasn’t entirely sure if he was stalling or not. Whatever it was Oswald needed to say, it seemed important. Had he remembered something?

         “Jim, I don’t know how to ask this...”

         Jim was getting more concerned by the minute. “Don’t worry about it. Whatever it is, just ask.”

         “Is it true that you, well, murdered someone?” Oswald asked. He looked up at Jim with wide, worried eyes.

         Jim’s brows rose. “Excuse me?”

         Oswald dropped his gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry, Jim. I shouldn’t have asked such a thing, but I need to know.”

         Was it something Oswald had remembered or had someone said something? Jim wasn’t sure how to go about answering something like that. “I’ve, uh, killed people as a cop if that’s what you meant.” Oswald shook his head. “Someone did frame me for a murder, though.” Jim figured that would be the safest answer, if Oswald hadn’t remembered much.

         Oswald’s head snapped up. “You were framed?”

         “Yeah.” Jim rubbed the back of his neck. “By an ex-coworker. It was cleared up, though, and the charges were dropped after it was proven he’d done it.”

         “Oh, that’s such a relief!” Jim grunted as Oswald practically bowled him over with his hug. Oswald buried his face against Jim’s chest. “I knew it wasn’t what it seemed like in the newspaper.”

         Jim wrapped his arms around Oswald and rested his chin on the top of his head. “Newspaper?”

         “Charles was trying to make me think you were a killer,” Oswald mumbled. He peered up at Jim, then, with a blush. “But—if I’m to be honest—even if you were a killer I don’t think I’d mind.”

         “Whoa, what?”

         Oswald shrugged and lifted his chin to look at Jim fully. “You’d have had many opportunities to kill me, and you didn’t. Also, on my way over, I  _ may _ have recalled knowing some questionable people growing up. You’re nicer than most people have been to me.”

         Jim wasn’t sure what to say to that. He knew that was a lie. At least, it had been before all this. When Oswald finally remembered… Jim didn’t really want to think about how that was going to go over. “I see.”

         “But I am very relieved he was wrong. I won’t doubt you again,” Oswald promised with a grin. “I  _ do _ trust you, Jim.”

         “I think you should come back to Gotham with me.”

         “What?” Oswald blinked at him.

         “You should go with me to Gotham. I can’t stay here forever and I think you’d like Gotham better,” Jim replied, letting go of Oswald to rub the back of his neck.

         Oswald blushed. “I’d love to, Jim. But, my job. I’d feel bad for just leaving.”

         “Then we’ll go to the Fat Cat tonight. You could tell Bree to tell Charles, right?” Jim asked. He really didn’t want Oswald interacting with Charles again – not now, not ever.  

         “Yes, I could do that. It’s a little rude, but then, his behavior earlier was very unsettling.” Oswald frowned at the floor.

         “Unsettling?” Jim gripped Oswald’s arms. “How? Did he do something?”

         Oswald shook his head. “No, I don’t really know. I think he reminded me of someone. I just don’t know who it was.” He smiled at Jim. “I’m fine, really. Let’s just go, please?”

         Jim breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. He went around the motel room and packed his suitcase. Jim had grabbed it on one of his trips back to Gotham, figuring it’d be a good idea. He did a final check to make sure he wasn’t leaving anything behind, and left the room with Oswald.

         “I was wondering which room you were holed up in.” Charles was leaning against a car, arms crossed over his chest.

         “Charles?” Oswald gasped. “What are you doing here?”

         Charles sneered. “Looking for you, obviously. I knew you’d run off to your boyfriend.” He uncrossed his arms and approached.

         Jim stepped between him and Oswald. “Back off, Charles.”

         “Or what? You’ll shoot me?” Charles rolled his eyes. “It’s time for you to leave, Gordon. Louis has a job to get to, and you have Gotham to go and ruin.”

         Jim grit his teeth and opened his mouth to retort when Oswald interrupted. “Actually, Charles, I quit. I’m leaving with Jim.”

        Charles’ eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists. “Very funny, Louis. Now get in the car – we’re going to the lounge.”

         “You heard him, Charles. He quits, and he’s definitely not leaving with you,” Jim snapped.

         “That’s what you think.” Charles stomped forward, reaching for Oswald.

         Jim’s fist collided with Charles’ cheek, sending him reeling back. “That is what I think,” he growled.

         Charles glared at him. They stared each other down, with Oswald watching in concern. Charles lunged at Jim, tackling him to the ground. Fists flew. Blows were landed. Charles grabbed Jim’s head and smacked it into the ground.

         “Jim!” Oswald cried out.

         Jim managed to roll out from under Charles while the man was distracted. He kicked him in the stomach and hit him in the back of the neck. Charles crumpled with a grunt. Jim pinned him to the gravel. “Give up?”

         “Fuck you!” Charles spat, struggling.

         Jim used the same move Charles had, and slammed his head into the ground. “How about now?”

         Charles groaned, but didn’t otherwise respond.

         Jim got to his feet and gave Oswald a half-smile. “Now we can go.”

         Oswald rushed forward, grabbed Jim’s face, and planted an overjoyed kiss on his lips.

         And there went Jim’s whole plan to save kissing for when Oswald remembered everything. He curled an arm around Oswald’s waist and kissed back happily.

         At least until Oswald pulled back with wide eyes. Jim frowned.“Louis?”

         “That’s not my name.”


	5. Chapter 5

 

         “What?” Jim and Oswald stared at one another, both looking equally shocked.

         “That’s not my name. It’s not Louis,” Oswald repeated. “I remember.”

         Jim wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Oswald-”

_          Smack! _

         Jim flinched and placed a hand on his cheek. “What the hell!?”

         “You lied to me!” Oswald pushed Jim away, eyes wide. “And I kissed you! Oh god!”

         “Oswald,” Jim said, taking a step toward him. “I tried to tell you-”

         “Shut up!” Oswald spat. He looked around wildly, confused and panicked. His gaze landed on Charles, who was trying to get up. “ _ You! _ ”

         The absolute fury that lit up Oswald’s eyes had Jim moving between them instinctively.

         “Get out of the way, Jim!” Oswald lurched forward, lips pulled back in a snarl. “Give me your gun!”

         Jim shook his head. “My – No! Besides, I don’t have it with me.” He grabbed Oswald’s arm, disregarding the danger that would certainly put him in. “Oswald, stop.”

         Oswald threw his arm off and his hands balled into fists. “ _ NO! _ I will  _ not _ stop! This man made a fool of me!” His cheeks were scarlet, and he was practically spitting in rage. “What if I’d never remembered? He could have done whatever he wanted to me and...” Oswald trailed off, breathing hard.

         The shaking of Oswald’s shoulders when Jim gripped them to steer him away told him that he was still a ticking time bomb despite his sudden quiet. “Oswald, I get it, I do. But you can’t kill him.” Oswald opened his mouth to retort, but Jim continued, “He won’t get away with it. We’re not in Gotham right now, remember? If we call the local police, it’ll be dealt with. Legally.”

         Oswald turned his back on Jim. “Fine.”

         Jim sighed in relief. “Okay, good. We’ll deal with this, and then leave for Gotham.”

         “No.”

         “No?” Jim frowned. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

         Oswald whipped back around and prodded Jim in the chest with a finger. “I mean I’m not going back to Gotham with you! I’ll go back on my own.” He glared up at Jim, lips pursed angrily.

         “Why can’t you just let me drive you back?” Jim’s frown deepened.

         Oswald sneered and rolled his eyes. “Why do you think?” Before Jim could think to answer, Oswald spun on his heel and limped away, pulling out a cell phone from his pocket.

 

* * *

 

         Jim did eventually return to Gotham alone. He had wanted to talk to Oswald, explain things, but he hadn’t gotten the chance. Oswald had snubbed his attempts and left in a taxi. Guilt gnawed at Jim’s mind. Oswald had every right to be upset. Even so, Jim wished he could have at least shared his side of the story.

         It was late when Jim arrived at his apartment. He was surprised to see Harvey waiting outside, leaning against the brick wall and munching ferociously on a burger.

         “Jimbo! You’re finally back. I was beginning to think you got into an accident or something.” Harvey chuckled.

         “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Jim asked with a roll of his eyes. He opened the door to his apartment and led Harvey inside.

         Harvey shrugged. “So, you wanna tell me what happened with Penguin? You said he was going to come back to Gotham, but not with you. What’s that about?”

         “Oh.” Jim grimaced. He threw his suitcase on his bed and stepped into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of whiskey. “I think  _ he  _ thinks that I manipulated him or something.” Not that Jim could really blame Oswald.

         “But you didn’t, did you? You did what Lee and Lucius told you – which was to let his memory return on it’s own, yeah?” Harvey asked, taking the bottle from Jim and pouring a glass for himself. “He doesn’t need to get all pissy about it. But I guess we  _ are _ talking about Penguin.”

         Jim huffed a half-hearted laugh. “I didn’t manipulate him. At least, I don’t think I did. Maybe I did?” He sunk into his lumpy couch.

         “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Harvey raised a confused brow.

         “It means… We kind of dated,” Jim replied, refusing to meet Harvey’s eyes. He was sure Harvey would be disgusted – either with Jim wanting to date another guy or because said guy was Oswald. Probably both.

         Silence. Then, “Wow.” Harvey snorted. “I was wondering how long that would take to happen. Now I owe Alvarez twenty bucks.”

         Jim’s head snapped up. “What?”

         Harvey shook his head. “Penguin’s had the biggest damn crush on you since you two met. I wasn’t entirely sure you had any feelings for him at first, but that time he came in to invite you to his club? Well, it was kinda obvious there was some kinda attraction.”

         Jim’s mouth opened and closed, making him feel like a fish.

         “So Alvarez and I made a bet. I thought for sure you’d never actually do anything about, considering what a stubborn ass you are.”

         “Thanks.”

         “You’re welcome. But Alvarez thought you’d give in. Looks like he was right, the dick,” Harvey grumbled the last bit, looking only mildly annoyed. “But what made you want to date him, huh? He didn’t even remember you…. Unless that was why?”

         Jim frowned. “When the hell’d you get so perceptive?”

         “I’m always perceptive, Jimmy boy. You should know that by now,” Harvey said with a smirk.

         Jim sighed and downed the rest of his whiskey. “I guess I couldn’t help it. If you’d heard him sing, Harv…. Anyway, yeah, I thought maybe it’d be okay if he didn’t remember me. Or the crap I’d done.” Jim set the empty glass down and buried his face in his hands. “And about the things he’s done. It was easier for me to forget too.”

         Harvey pulled a chair over and sat down. “Okay, so, what then? Do you actually like him or was it just because he wasn’t himself?”

         “I can’t believe you’re letting me talk about this,” Jim said, chuckling awkwardly.

         “Normally, I wouldn’t, but I’m making an exception this time. Though if you keep stalling maybe I’ll change my mind,” Harvey teased. He filled Jim’s glass and handed it to him.

         “Thanks.” Jim rubbed his face and took a swig. “I don’t know how to explain it, honestly. I think I’ve always liked him in some way. I just, I don’t know, didn’t let myself? And when he wasn’t doing anything criminal, I couldn’t help but just actually get to know him. To an extent. Like how he would have been if he wasn’t Penguin.”

         Harvey nodded. “Complicated, but I think I get what you’re saying.”

         “Not that it really matters now. He remembers what an ass I’ve been. I don’t think he’ll want anything to do with me,” Jim muttered.

         “So let me get this straight – or not so much –” Harvey chuckled at Jim’s glare. “Sorry, couldn’t help it. But seriously, you’re just going to sit here and mope because he’s kind of mad at you? Really?”

         “Then what do you suggest?” Jim retorted.

         Harvey rolled his eyes. “Obviously, you have to go and apologize. Explain yourself. Tell him what you just told me, for cryin’ out loud!” He threw his hands up, exasperated. “Honestly, Jim, it’s a wonder you ever got into any relationships.”

         Jim laughed. Harvey was right, really. He was awful at this sort of thing. “Okay, okay, I get it. Thanks, Harvey.”

 

* * *

 

         Oswald paced in front of his fireplace, biting his nails. No matter how much he tried not to think about it, he couldn’t keep his mind off of what had happened with Jim. They had dated. And then he’d gone and kissed Jim. How embarrassing.

         Groaning, Oswald sat on one of the couches. Jim had to have been messing with him, right? There was no way Jim would ever actually like him – in any capacity. It had to have just been some cruel prank. However, something made him feel that wasn’t true. Probably just wishful thinking.

         Then again, Jim had been very nice. He’d complimented his singing, brought him gifts (even if they belonged to Oswald originally), and took him out to dinner. Oswald smiled a little, remembering the dinner. Jim had been so attentive. He’d smiled. And now that he thought about it, hadn’t Jim called him Oswald at first? Before he himself had insisted he was Louis?

         Oswald sighed. Maybe he should have listened to Jim.

 

* * *

 

         Jim looked up at the mansion with raised brows. He had heard about Oswald’s inheriting the place from his late father, but he’d never actually gone to see it. Luckily, Harvey had been able to give directions, having gone there to investigate Oswald’s disappearance. It was an impressive place, straight out of a story book. Jim thought it suited Oswald perfectly.

         Taking a breath, he approached the front door and rang the bell. The door opened to reveal an older woman in a maid’s outfit, her expression serious.

         “Yes?” she asked, her voice heavily accented.

         “Is Oswald here? I need to speak to him,” Jim said. He tried to look past her, but he couldn’t see much.

         “Mr. Cobblepot is not expecting any visitors today,” the maid replied.

         Jim tried not to get annoyed. “Can you tell him I’m here? I’m Jim Gordon.”

         The woman looked him over, then disappeared into the manor.

         Jim waited as patiently as he could. Luckily, it didn’t take long for the maid to return.

         “Mr. Cobblepot will see you. Follow me.”

         The manor was even more impressive inside, if a bit cluttered and dark. The room the maid brought him to, well, Jim was unsure if it was a dining room or living room. Or both. There was a long wooden table with several chairs, and just beyond it was a huge fireplace and two fancy couches.

         Oswald limped over from the dining table. “Jim, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” His tone was indecipherable. He glanced at the maid. “Olga, clear the table and take a break.”

         “Yes, Mr. Cobblepot.” Olga picked up the empty plate and tea set and left the room.

         Jim rubbed the back of his neck. He sighed and looked Oswald in the eyes. “I wanted to, you know, apologize. For making you think I was tricking you.”

         Oswald’s eyes widened. “Jim Gordon, apologizing? Dear me, I wasn’t aware the world was ending!”

         “I changed my mind,” Jim muttered, frowning as he made to leave. He wasn’t that much of an asshole. Was he?

         “Jim, I was merely teasing.” Oswald grabbed his arm, though he quickly let go. “I’m only joking since you have nothing to apologize for. This time.”

         Jim turned back, looking at Oswald with raised eyebrows. “What?”

         “I may have…overreacted. When it came to your involvement, that is.” Oswald blushed. “You were strangely kind to me the whole time. Though I still don’t understand why you stole my things and gave them to me.”

         “I didn’t steal them!” Jim protested. “Harvey had something brought to the precinct to test for finger prints when we realized you’d gone missing.”

         Oswald laughed. “Oh, well, I suppose that’s a bit of a relief.”

         “When I found out you had amnesia, I told Harvey. He told Lee and Lucius and they both agreed that bringing you something familiar might help you remember things,” Jim explained with a shrug.

         “That….makes sense I suppose,” Oswald said with a nod. “Then I suppose I should thank you.”

         Before Jim could think of a response, Oswald was kissing him. It was a quick, but sweet peck to the lips, and then Oswald was pulling away, cheeks red.

         “Sorry, sorry. Just, I thought maybe...” Oswald covered his face with his hands.

         Jim strode forward and pulled Oswald’s hands away. “Don’t be.” He cupped Oswald’s face and pressed their lips together. Oswald made a noise of surprise, but didn’t pull away, so Jim took it as a sign to continue. He dropped a hand to his waist and gently coaxed Oswald closer.

         Oswald broke from his shock to return the kiss, resting his hands on Jim’s broad chest.

         With a sigh, Jim pulled back a bit to look into Oswald’s sea green eyes. “I’ve been wanting to do that for days,” he said, smirking.

         “You have?” Oswald asked. He gripped the front of Jim’s suit, betraying just how eager and vulnerable he was.

         “Since the first date,” Jim confessed. There was no point hiding it, even if he did feel a little embarrassed admitting it.

         Oswald huffed. “And why didn’t you then?”

         Jim caressed Oswald’s cheek with his thumb. “You didn’t remember me. I didn’t want to take advantage of you more than I probably was.”

         “Jim.” Whatever else Oswald might have said was forgotten as Jim dipped his head to kiss him again.

         Jim slid his fingers into Oswald’s hair, tugging a little to angle him the way he wanted. Oswald let out a little moan and clutched at his shoulders. Smiling, Jim pressed kisses along Oswald’s pale throat. He wanted to leave marks, but restrained himself. For the time being.

         “Ah, maybe...maybe we should move this somewhere more  _ private? _ ” Oswald whimpered even as he tilted his head to give Jim better access.

         “Sure.” Jim gave him a final kiss before stepping back, much to Oswald’s audible disappointment. “Lead the way.”

         “Okay,” Oswald mumbled, still looking a little dazed.

         Jim followed Oswald from the room and up the stairs. As much as he tried, he couldn’t exactly keep his eyes from wandering. Not that he could see much. Jim silently cursed Oswald’s new habit of wearing longer coats.

         As soon as they entered the bedroom, Jim pushed Oswald up against the door, kissing him hungrily. Oswald moaned into his mouth. It turned into a surprised squeak when Jim roughly grabbed his ass and squeezed.

         Oswald nipped at Jim’s lower lip and pushed him back.

         Jim groaned and pulled Oswald towards the bed as he felt kisses being planted along his jaw. “Eager, huh?” he chuckled.

         “More than you know.” Oswald smirked, toying with Jim’s tie. “I may never have done this sort of thing before, but I want to.” He hooked a finger in the tie and pulled it loose, looking up at Jim through his lashes.

         “Yeah?” Jim couldn’t think of a more intelligent response, not with the way Oswald was watching him. Most of his brain power was going towards not throwing him down on the bed and fucking him right then and there. He had to be at least a little patient.

         “Yes,” Oswald purred. He kissed Jim’s chin. “ _ Please _ .”

         Well. That killed his will power. Practically growling, Jim captured Oswald’s lips in a hungry kiss. Clothes were flung or dropped. Oswald yelped when Jim pressed him down against the bed. “Fuck, Oswald,” Jim grunted against his newly bared collarbones as he tried to work Oswald’s shirt off instead of just getting caught at the elbows.

         “I thought,  _ ngh _ , that was the point,” Oswald sassed, rolling his hips up against Jim’s.

         Jim chuckled. He finally got the shirt off and was able to fully enjoy looking Oswald over. He didn’t remember turning the lights on, but he was glad for it. Oswald’s skin practically glowed in the warm lamplight.

         Oswald squirmed under Jim’s gaze and he flushed. “Jim, don’t stare.”

         “Why not?” Jim ran his hands along Oswald’s sides and let them rest on his hips. “You’re beautiful, Oswald.”

         The blush crept down Oswald’s neck to his chest. “You don’t mean that.”

         Jim held his gaze. “I do mean it. Why would I lie about that?”

         “Because,” Oswald gestured at himself, “I’m covered in scars, Jim. And I’m, well, you can see.”

         “I can see you’re stunning,” Jim said, leaning down over Oswald. He kissed each scar he could find, and stopped to pay special attention to the one just below his sternum. The newest scar. “I wish you didn’t have the scars. Not ‘cause they’re ugly, but because you were hurt. This one especially.”

         “Oh, Jim.” Oswald’s voice quivered.

         Jim sat back on his calves. He pulled off his own shirt, along with his undershirt. “If it makes you feel any better, I have some too.”

         Oswald tentatively reached out and ran his fingertips over them. Emboldened, he splayed his hands over Jim’s chest and slid them up and around, feeling the muscles of his arms.

         “Ready to continue?” Jim asked, leaning down to mouth at Oswald’s neck.

         “Yes, I’m starting to feel  _ impatient _ ,” Oswald hummed, arching up against him.

         Jim grinned and freed himself from his pants and boxers. His grin only widened when he heard Oswald let out a little gasp. “Like what you see?”

         “ _ Jim. _ ”

         “Okay, okay.” Jim removed the rest of Oswald’s clothes and set to work peppering each bit of exposed skin with open-mouthed kisses and nips. The noises Oswald made were downright sinful and Jim tried to commit each one to memory. “Oswald, you don’t have any lube, do you? I’d have brought some but, uh, I wasn’t exactly planning this.”

         Oswald nodded and gestured vaguely to the nightstand. “There.” He whined as Jim moved away to get to the drawer.

         Jim gave a huff of amusement, though he was just as eager as Oswald. He settled back between his spread legs and slicked his fingers. “Let me know if any of this hurts or you want me to stop.” Jim waited for him to nod. He gently teased around Oswald’s entrance before pushing his finger inside.

         “Oh!” Oswald mewled, eyes blown with lust.

         Slender fingers gripped Jim’s hair as he lowered himself to suck marks into the soft flesh of Oswald’s thighs. He continued to gradually stretch Oswald open. Jim pressed his fingers in deep. Oswald let out a sound that Jim could only describe as a yowl. “Oswald, you okay?”

         “Yes, yes! Do that again!” Oswald demanded, breathing harshly.

         Jim crooked his fingers and Oswald cried out. This time Jim couldn’t mistake the sound for anything but pleasure. Unable to wait any longer, though, he removed his fingers and grabbed the bottle of lube from where he’d dropped it by the pillows earlier.

         “ _ Jim _ , hurry. I  _ need _ you.” Oswald didn’t seem to care that he was begging. “I don’t know how much longer I’ll last.”

         “Okay, yeah,” Jim agreed gruffly. He tossed the used lube elsewhere and lined himself up, lifting Oswald’s legs to wrap around his waist.  _ Go slow, go slow _ , Jim thought as he pushed forward. “ _ Fuck! _ ” Despite the prep, Oswald was tighter than anything Jim was used to.

         Oswald whimpered and clutched at Jim’s shoulders. “Oh, god!” He hauled Jim down into a hurried kiss.

         Jim groaned against his lips, rocking slowly into Oswald until, finally, he was fully seated within him. He propped himself up on one elbow and carded his fingers through Oswald’s hair. The insistent nudge of a heel at his lower back let Jim know Oswald was ready.

         “Jim,” Oswald moaned sweetly, caressing Jim’s cheek as he bucked his hips up to meet Jim’s thrust.

         Jim leaned his forehead against Oswald’s. “So pretty,” he breathed, picking up the pace of his rutting. With the way Oswald squeezed around him, Jim honestly wasn’t sure how long  _ he _ was going to last.

         Oswald’s speech had quickly devolved into repetitions of Jim’s name. The pitch rose as Jim adjusted his thrusts to hit his prostate and he clawed at his strong back.

         There were going to bruises on the both of them by the end, Jim was sure. But he didn’t mind in the least. Jim pulled Oswald up onto his lap as he sat back on his haunches.

         Oswald keened at the new angle. His world narrowed to only the pleasure in his body and the sound of Jim moaning and growling into his ear.

         Keeping one arm curled around Oswald possessively, Jim reached between their bodies to stroke Oswald in time with his thrusts. Or at least he attempted to. He was so far gone he wasn’t entirely sure of the rhythm.

         “Jim...Jim,  _ oh fuck! _ ” Oswald screamed, his back bowing and his body shuddering.

         There was no way Jim could stave off his orgasm after that. With Oswald’s body rippling around him, the sound of him swearing so passionately, it was too much. Jim slammed home one, two more times before spilling into Oswald.

         Jim returned from the bathroom and slid into bed beside Oswald. “Hey, uh, how’re you feeling?”

         Oswald blinked slowly. “Fantastic, Jim.”

         “Good,” Jim chuckled. “I’d have to agree with you on that.” He pulled Oswald against him and relaxed with a sigh.

         The room fell into an almost comfortable silence. Then,“This...this won’t be a one time thing, will it?”

         Jim looked down at Oswald, who had decided to use his chest as a pillow. “No! Not unless you want it to?” he replied, tightening his hold on Oswald. “I like you, Oswald. A lot. Even if I’m really bad at showing it. But if you want me around… I’ll do that.”

         Oswald smiled against Jim’s chest. He leaned up and pecked him on the lips. “I’d like that, Jim.”

         Jim returned Oswald’s smile and kiss. He felt Oswald curl closer, and he buried his nose into the fluff of his hair. This was something Jim could get used to.

         Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, though, he heard a soft humming. It took Jim a moment to recognize the melody Oswald was sleepily singing. Surprise slowly faded to content, and Jim fell asleep with Oswald in his arms.

_          Goodnight, sweetheart, well it's time to go, _

_          Goodnight, sweetheart, well it's time to go, _

_          I hate to leave you, but I really must say, _

_          Goodnight, sweetheart, goodnight. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally, here is the end! I hope you all enjoyed it. ^_^  
> Thank you again to thekeyholder for not only for being the beta for this story, but for suggesting it in the first place!
> 
> The song used is Goodnight Sweetheart by The Spaniels: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X4p9RSShJcA


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